


fracture

by transarmin



Series: Eremin Week 2019 [3]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Manga Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2021-01-13 05:28:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21238934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/transarmin/pseuds/transarmin
Summary: Eremin week day 3: Broken. Some of the times Eren and Armin felt broken and helped put each other back together again, and the one time nothing could.





	fracture

**Author's Note:**

> this is so angsty apparently i prefer writing angsty stuff... it also turned out way longer than i intended it to. but thank you so much for reading!! disclaimer: i'm sick and i didn't proofread this so if there are any mistakes i'm sorry.
> 
> trigger warning: there are mentions of sexual assault (regarding that one scene from ch.53-54), please be careful

Armin has been sick for days. Eren is concerned, because usually Armin gets sick in the winter but it’s the middle of summer right now, a hot and sticky summer. It’s been almost a week since he saw his best friend and Eren is bored, restless, and most of all missing him. He misses holding Armin’s hand and tickling him to make him laugh and running through the streets of Shiganshina together. He misses Armin’s smile, a smile so bright Eren thinks it rivals the sun, and the delicate freckles that appear on his little button nose in the summertime. There’s only so many days a young boy can take playing by himself or helping his mother with chores before he becomes tired of it. So Eren has decided to take matters into his own hands.

Armin’s house isn’t too far away from his own, in one of the poorer areas of Shiganshina. His family has never had much. They made up for it with wild dreams and smart ideas. The whole Arlert family has always been regarded as a group of heretics, though Eren still isn’t sure what that word means. Only smart people like Armin know big words like that. Still, the word makes Eren angry, because it reminds him of the bullies who dare to pin his friend up against the wall and pummel him with punches. Armin says they beat him up because they’re scared. Eren doesn’t understand that. How could anyone be scared of someone so nice as Armin, who never fights back and never tells tales on the people who hurt him?

When Eren arrives at the house, he knocks three times. There’s no response. He knocks again, louder, and stands fidgeting with the strings on his shirt and swaying back and forth as he waits for someone to let him in. Eventually, the door is opened by Armin’s grandfather, who looks more exhausted and old than usual. He furrows his brow in confusion when he sees no one at the door, but then looks down and smiles.

“Ah, it’s you,” he says.

Eren beams up at him. “It’s me,” he replies, “I came to see Armin.”

“Armin isn’t feeling very well, Eren,” the old man tells him. He sounds so tired, and his voice is hoarse. 

Eren feels worried suddenly in case Armin is _really _sick like that one time two winters ago when he had to go to the infirmary. They weren’t even friends back then, but Eren went along with his father that day and saw the poor boy wrapped up in blankets, looking so small and so helpless. He was coughing and spluttering and he really sounded terrible. If Armin is sick like that again, Eren will do everything he possibly can to make him get better.

“Does he need a doctor?” he asks, “My father is a doctor.”

Armin’s grandpa chuckles softly at that. “I know,” he says, “But Armin isn’t sick, Eren.”

Now Eren cocks his head to one side, confused, and frowns. “Then why hasn’t he come out to play?” he questions.

“There was an accident.”

“Is Armin hurt?” Eren asks, rather frantic now. He doesn’t want Armin to be hurt.

“No,” the old man says, and Eren breathes out a sigh of relief, “But his parents… They’re both dead, Eren.”

Eren knows what being ‘dead’ means. It’s when your heart stops beating and you aren’t alive anymore. But until now ‘death’ has been a concept that seemed far-away, something his father had explained to him years ago but didn’t seem like a threat. Now it seems very real. Eren knew Armin’s parents and they were good people. If they’re ‘dead’ it means he won’t ever get to see them again, and neither will Armin. He understands now why Armin hasn’t been to see him for a few days. He must be very, very sad. Eren thinks he would be too if it were his parents.

“Can I see him?” he asks, “Please. I want to give him a hug to make him feel better.”

Armin’s grandpa smiles down at him, with wrinkles around his eyes. “Okay. But don’t be too rowdy, alright?”

Eren nods obediently and when the man steps aside to let him in, he hurries through the door and runs up the stairs to Armin’s bedroom. He’s so excited to see his best friend that he forgets to knock and barges straight in, making Armin squeal in surprise. When he sees Eren he seems to relax a little. Armin is in his bed, with a blanket around his shoulders despite the summer heat. His hair is messy and his eyes are red like he’s been crying a lot. He sniffles and wipes his nose with the back of his hand, and wraps the blanket tighter around himself.

“What are you doing here?” Armin asks meekly.

“I came to see you, of course,” Eren tells him. He walks over and sits on the edge of the bed, swinging his legs. “I heard about your parents.”

Armin lets out a small, sad noise. “Yeah,” he says, “They were killed.”

“Your grandpa said there was an accident,” Eren says.

“That’s what I meant. They were killed by the accident. They tried to fly away, over the walls, but something went wrong and now they’re dead. That’s what the MP said, anyway.”

“It’s so unfair!” Eren blurts out, startling Armin with the sudden loudness, “They were good people. Good people don’t deserve to die.”

“But everyone dies,” Armin reminds him, and his voice is so quiet and hardly there at all.

“I know,” says Eren, “But that’s not fair either. Why should _anyone _have to die?”

“If no one ever died then the Walls would be very full,” Armin says, “And there wouldn’t be enough food or land, so everyone would start fighting each other.”

“Everyone fights each other anyway. I always fight those stupid bullies for you.”

“That’s different.”

“How?”

“It just is.”

Eren contemplates it, but he doesn’t really understand so he gives up trying. Instead he goes to wrap his arms around Armin and hug him tightly, pressing soft innocent kisses to the top of his head. That’s what his mother does whenever he cries. She holds him in her arms and kisses him, and it makes him feel better. So Eren does the same for Armin because he wants to make Armin feel better.

“Thank you for coming,” Armin whispers, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too. I hope you’re better soon. I don’t like it when you’re sad.”

“Me neither.”

When Eren goes home later that day, he wonders what it feels like to die.

::

Each night, Eren wakes up in a cold sweat crying and calling out desperately for his mother. They’ve been in the refugee camp for a month now but the nightmares are as frequent as when they first came, for all of them. Armin’s lucky because he has his grandpa to look after him. Eren and Mikasa don’t have anyone anymore. Carla was eaten by a titan, and Doctor Jaeger is missing. The Walls are in chaos. No one knows what to do anymore. Armin has never seen so many people in once place all looking so frightened.

In the daytime, Eren is plagued by an anger that is all consuming. His hands are always clenched into white-knuckled fists and his teeth are constantly grinding together. He gets frustrated and punches walls until his hands bleed, or until Mikasa stops him, and when they heal he just does it again.

He changes at night. When it gets dark and they all snuggle up together in their tent, Eren is calmer, quieter. He barely utters a word as they all fall asleep. And then he wakes up screaming and sobbing, terrified, that day happening all over again in his head.

“It’s alright,” Armin always comforts him, taking hold of his hand and squeezing reassuringly, “You’re safe.”

Eren weeps for his mother, cries like he’s breaking inside. Armin strokes his hair and hushes him until he falls asleep again, and prays that he stops hurting so much soon

One day, when they’re hovering around waiting for rations to be given out, Eren seems more reserved than usual.

“You’re quiet today,” Mikasa remarks, serious and stone-faced as ever.

Eren, who would usually snap at her in frustration, just shrugs his shoulders.

“What are you thinking about?” Armin asks him in a whisper, because he knows for Eren to be this quiet and contemplative he must be thinking about something bad.

Eren huffs through his nose, and closes his eyes tight for a second before opening them again. “It just hit me, that’s all,” he says. There’s almost no emotion in his voice, he just sounds worn out. “He’s never coming back, is he?”

Armin frowns. “You mean your father?” he asks, and when Eren nods he continues, “We don’t know that for sure.”

“But it’s been a month,” Eren reminds him, “And no one has seen him.”

“He’ll come back,” Mikasa says. She slumps down against the wall and curls her knees up to her chest, buries her face in her scarf. She puts her hands over her ears like she’s trying to block out the rest of the world. Maybe she’s having one of her headaches again.

“That key around your neck,” Armin says, reaching out to touch it. Eren flinches for a moment but lets him pick it up, study it. “Where did it come from?”

“I don’t know,” Eren says, “Maybe my father gave it to me that day and I forgot.”

“But you weren’t wearing it. I’d remember if you were.”

“Then I don’t know where it came from.”

“Maybe it’s a sign, or something,” says Armin, “That Doctor Jaeger will come back.”

Eren smiles, a very slight smile but it’s the first one Armin has seen in weeks. It makes his heart ache for some reason.

“I didn’t think you believed in that kind of thing,” Eren remarks.

Armin smiles back at him softly. “I don’t, not really,” he says, “But who knows anymore.”

Then Eren sighs, and before Armin can react Eren’s arms are around his neck, pulling him into a hug. They haven’t had a proper hug like that for a while. Armin melts into it, wraps his arms around Eren’s waist and hugs back just as tight.

“We’ll be okay, won’t we?” Eren murmurs into his hair.

“Yes,” Armin says back, meaning it wholeheartedly, “We’ll be okay.”

“As long as we’re together.”

Armin would never want them to be apart.

“I miss her so much,” Eren says. There’s a vulnerability to his voice, like it’s going to break, and Armin realizes he’s crying. “I just miss her so, so much.”

“I know you do, Eren,” Armin sighs, rubbing his friend’s back to console him a little.

“It’s all I can think about, every time I close my eyes… Watching her get bitten in half, the blood, blood everywhere…”

“Shh,” Armin comforts him, “It’s over now, Eren. You’re safe now.”

He’s sobbing. Eren doesn’t ever cry like this during the daytime, but Armin holds him tight and reassures him with gentle words like he would if it was night. He’d hold Eren like this for hours and hours if he needed him to. He’d do anything.

::

Armin dreams of his friends dying around him, of screams and the horrible sticky feeling of falling down a titan’s throat, of Eren’s bloody arm flying through the air as he’s swallowed whole. It feels like he’s reliving it every time, and when he wakes up tears are flooding down his cheeks and he can’t find the air to breathe.

He doesn’t see Eren much at all anymore, and it’s killing him. All he wants is to be held in Eren’s arms again. To feel safe again. He’s surrounded by his other friends but it’s not the same. He has a yearning ache in his heart for Eren’s presence beside him, for Eren to console him when he’s crying and make all the scary things go away.

Armin has no right to cry. He hears Jean crying at night into the darkness, crying for the best friend he’ll never get back. Jean seems so hollow lately, almost like an entirely different person to the cocky boy he used to be. Armin feels that way too, but his best friend is safe and living, whilst Marco is dead and nothing remains of his body but ash. Armin must be the most selfish person in the world for feeling this way when Eren is still alive and so many others are dead.

Still, he misses Eren like he’s never missed anything before. Even when his grandfather died he felt secure because Eren was by his side, but now he just feels lost and alone. He’s depended on Eren for so much. Not just to protect him, but to comfort him, to pick him up and put him back together again. Eren has been a constant throughout Armin’s life and to suddenly not have him here is impossible to adjust to. It hurts. He loves Eren more than he loves anything else in this world. Armin would do anything to have him back.

::

Eren has never felt so alone, so isolated from the rest of the world, as he does right now sat in this dark, damp room with the door firmly bolted shut. The past few weeks are a blur. One minute he’s fighting in Trost, the next he’s throwing himself into a titan’s mouth to save Armin. And then he’s a monster, a freak, a hero, humanity’s last hope - all at once. He doesn’t know how he’s supposed to make any sense of this. It feels like he’s living in a nightmare that won’t end. What he wouldn’t give to go back to training, sleeping in the boys’ dormitory with all his friends, with Armin right beside him close and warm. It’s so cold and dark down here, in the basement where he’s locked up every night like a prisoner. Captain Levi says it’s for his own and everyone else’s safety. But it’s going to drive him insane.

He can’t sleep. He’s restless. He keeps kicking the blankets off him, then pulling them back up when he gets too cold. His hands are shaking and his skin feels like it’s on fire. For days he’s been touch starved, alone. He can’t remember the last time anyone touched him - the last time _Armin _touched him. Eren misses him so desperately. He misses the soft touch of Armin’s hand against his skin, the feeling of their bodies pressed together. He needs Armin like he needs air to breathe. He realizes that now, as they’re apart for the first time in five years, and he’d give anything to have Armin beside him whispering comforting words and stroking his hair. Like he did when they were children in the refugee camp.

When he finally gets some time alone with Armin, he all but collapses into his arms.

“I missed you so much,” Eren says. He starts to cry, because the familiar feeling of Armin’s body and the familiar smell of his hair is too much, too overwhelming. “You have no idea.”

“I do,” Armin tells him, and he’s crying too now.

They cling onto each other and don’t let go, holding on like their lives depend on it, and just cry. They stay like that for a while until they’ve both calmed down a little, and then Eren pulls away and cups Armin’s face in his hands instead.

“How are you?” he asks, staring into Armin’s eyes because he hasn’t seen them for so long and he almost forgot how beautiful and bright they were.

Armin sighs. “Tired. Confused. Everything is hazy at the moment.”

“I love you,” Eren says. He feels like he has to say it, after being away from Armin for so long, after all the terrible things that have happened. So many people died at Trost, and Eren was almost one of them. If anything happened to Armin he wouldn’t be able to live with himself. He needs Armin to know how much he means to him, that he’s his whole world. His everything.

“I love you too, Eren,” Armin replies, smiling softly. They’re both quiet for a moment and then his smile falters, and he looks away from Eren’s gaze.

“What’s wrong?” Eren asks, his voice full of concern and tenderness, “Armin?”

Armin shakes his head. “It’s nothing,” he says, “It doesn’t matter.”

::

Finding out people you admired for years are the cause of all your grief and suffering is like having a bullet shot straight through your chest. Eren doesn’t even know how to react, he just feels betrayed and angry like he’s never been angry before.

“I trusted them,” he tells Armin, the seething rage escaping as he talks through gritted teeth, “Reiner, Bertolt, Annie… I trusted them all.”

“I know,” Armin says. He sighs and leans his head against Eren’s shoulder, resting it there. For Eren it’s like an anchor keeping him grounded, stopping him from exploding. “I did too.”

Even now it’s difficult to believe. Even after seeing Reiner and Bertolt transform, after they kidnapped Eren and killed countless comrades, Eren still can’t quite process it all. He doesn’t understand why anyone would do such awful things. Most of all Eren feels angry that Reiner and Bertolt fabricated a lie about fleeing their village from titans when it was them who caused all this despair and suffering in the first place. He feels furious at them, hurt and deceived. He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to believe anymore.

“We have each other, right?” Armin says, breaking Eren’s train of thought, “And that’s the most important thing.”

He’s right. As long as the two of them are together, nothing else matters. No one else matters.

“I know it hurts,” Armin continues, “But letting yourself be consumed by anger isn’t going to do anyone any good. You know that better than anyone.”

Eren would laugh, if he wasn’t so exhausted. “Thank you,” he says instead, “For everything.”

Armin smiles sweetly at him, and his cheeks have turned a soft shade of pink. “You don’t have to thank me for anything,” he says.

::

Yesterday, Armin had looked at Eren and thought to himself he was the most beautiful thing in the world, the most handsome boy he’d ever seen. He blushed and shook his head and tried to ignore the giddy butterflies in his stomach when he imagined Eren kissing him softly on the lips and their bodies pressed close. But that was yesterday, before all this happened. Now he can’t even bear to look at Eren at all.

He still smells the man’s breath, feels it warm and wet against the skin of his neck. He still feels hands grabbing and groping at his chest and touching him in ways that make him sick to his stomach. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to get his face out of his mind, that face that’s burned into his memories like a brand on his skin, or stop hearing the groaning voice telling him _that’s it, let me hear your voice, come on, it’s alright, I just want to hear that pretty voice, come on… _Armin feels broken. He feels broken and dirty and unnatural. The man had said he used to be normal, that it was Armin’s fault for turning him into _this_, that he had to do something about it. Armin must be some kind of freak. He’s never felt like this before, so violated and filthy. He wants to scrub his skin until it’s bleeding but even then he doesn’t think he’ll be able to forget the way that man’s clammy hands felt on him.

The thought of Eren, or anyone, seeing him like this makes him want to drop dead. But here Eren is anyway, sat beside him in silence. He’s been there for a while, just watching with a look that breaks Armin’s heart, eyes so full of sadness. Pity. Armin feels nauseous.

“I’m sorry,” Eren says suddenly.

Armin looks at him out of the corner of his eye. “What for?”

“I’m sorry that man hurt you.”

Armin chews on his bottom lip, fiddles with his hands. “He didn’t hurt me,” he says. His voice is raw from crying, and so quiet. “He didn’t even leave a mark on me.”

“That’s not the point,” Eren tells him. He shuffles closer and Armin recoils reflexively, terrified that Eren will try to put his arm around him, hold his hand, anything. He can’t let Eren touch him right now.

“Armin,” Eren says, and hearing his own name makes Armin shudder, like he doesn’t want to be associated with it anymore, “Please. Stop pretending that this is fine when it’s so obvious that it’s hurting you.”

Armin closes his eyes, shuts them tight to stop himself from crying. He can taste blood from where he’s biting down on his lip.

“Let me touch you,” Eren pleads. Armin shakes his head quickly, frantically, moves away even further. “Please, I want to help.”

“You can’t,” Armin tells him, “If you touch me then… Then I’ll just end up doing the same thing to you.”

“What are you talking about?”

“There’s something wrong with me, Eren. I’m not normal.”

“What makes you say that?”

“He said he used to be normal. Before me.”

Eren sighs loudly now. He sounds so tired. Armin feels bad for burdening him with this, like he burdens him with everything.

“Is that what you think?” Eren asks. His voice is strained. “That it’s your fault? Armin… It isn’t your fault, none of this is your fault.”

Armin just cries. He cries into his hands with choked, breathless sobs. When Eren puts his arms around him and pulls him close, every nerve in his body tells him to run but he stays frozen, just lets Eren hold him like that, even though it feels like his skin is burning at the touch.

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” Eren reassures him. He kisses the top of Armin’s head and he trembles and sobs even harder.

“Please stop,” Armin begs, sounding like a trapped animal, “Let go.”

Eren pulls away and the sadness on his face is painful to look at. Another thing Armin has to feel guilty about.

“I just need time to think,” he says, refusing to look at Eren, “I’m sorry.”

“No,” Eren says, firm but still full of tenderness, “Don’t apologize. It’s okay. I just want you to feel better.”

Armin wants that too, more than anything he wishes he could go back to this morning before any of this happened, before that man’s words and touches haunted him.

“I’ll be alright,” he tells Eren, but he doesn’t believe it himself.

“I’m always here for you,” Eren says, “Always.”

“I know.”

“And I love you, Armin. More than I can say in words.”

Armin wants to curl up, to shrink, to disappear. He can’t bring himself to say it back.

::

“I was so scared that I lost you,” Eren whispers. He holds Armin’s hand through the prison bars, clinging onto them. Mikasa is asleep in the next cell. “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you, Armin.”

Armin is quiet, so quiet. Too quiet. It’s like there’s despair hanging over him, weighing him down. He has a heavy burden on his shoulders now. No doubt he feels guilty for being alive in the Commander’s place.

“Hey,” Eren says, “I’m so glad you’re here.”

Armin smiles ever so slightly. “We’ll see the ocean together, right?” he asks. His voice is full of sadness, but with that dreaminess to it he always had when he was younger.

“Of course we will,” Eren says.

“You should get some rest,” Armin tells him, “It’s late.”

“Alright. But can I do something first?”

“Do what?”

It’s clumsy through the bars, but Eren manages to hold Armin’s face in his hands. He presses his forehead against the metal, so he’s as close to Armin as he can be. After almost losing him, Eren wants to hold Armin forever and never, ever let go. He thinks about kissing him and wonders how soft his lips would feel. Another time.

Armin yawns, exhausted. Eren can’t help smiling at the sight of him.

“Okay,” he says, defeated, “I’ll go to bed.”

“Good.”

“You should get some rest too.”

“I will. I’ll just stay until you fall asleep, though.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

When morning comes and Eren awakes with a scream, his head filled with visions of memories that aren’t his own and terrifying things, he’s so relieved that Armin didn’t keep that promise.

::

Armin still doesn’t understand why Eren said all those things. Each word like a dagger plunged into his heart, twisted around inside. He’s never been so angry with anyone before as he was when Eren said those awful things to him and Mikasa. It felt like a betrayal, like the past ten years meant nothing to Eren. Armin can’t believe it. He can’t believe Eren really meant the things he said, there’s no way, after everything they’ve been through. But it hurts and aches in ways Armin has never hurt or ached before. He knows now what it means to have your heart broken.

Dreams of oceans and a world beyond the walls seem so far away. All that remains is war, death, suffering. The world is a cruel place. Mikasa said that once, and Armin understands what she means now, after seeing the rubble and bodies at his feet. After Eren told him to his face that he was useless, told Mikasa that he hated her.

If only they could turn back time, go back to how things used to be. When Eren and Armin would run around Shiganshina without a care in the world, talking about how they would explore outside the walls one day. When they’d hold hands and press soft kisses to each other’s cheeks and giggle innocently. Those days seem so far away that they might have never existed at all.

Armin yearns for it. He’d do anything to have those days back. To have that Eren back.


End file.
